


Just You and Me

by xxenjoy



Series: Christmas Stories [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas setting, Drunk Sex, M/M, POV Dean, PWP, Top!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 15:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: "Would you uh, would you want to come home with me?" Cas' eyebrows shoot into his hairline before Dean can finish, and he hurries to continue, "we could pick up dinner, maybe pie and ice cream? Eggnog? Watch cheesy Christmas movies? I don't mean- just to hang out, I mean. So you're not alone?""Why?" Cas gapes."I just- if you don't want to spend the night alone, I mean. You don't have to - obviously - I just thought maybe it might be nicer than a lonely art studio." He doesn't know why this is suddenly so important to him, or why he's suddenly so anxious to know Cas' response, but Dean desperately wants him to say yes.





	Just You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to post this on the 23rd, but I have a multi-chapter Christmas fic that I'm also hoping to post later this month, so I was going to put this one up on the first and then... I forgot. So here it is now.  
> The title comes from "Our First Christmas Together" by Celtic Thunder and if you don't know it, you should listen to it bc it's my favourite.  
> Once again self-edited bc I'm too impatient to wait for people to read it.

Castiel Novak is weird. Well, maybe that's not fair; he's _different_. Dean's been working with him for months and the only reason he even knows his last name is because he accidentally grabbed the guy's pay stub one time. Castiel doesn't share; he doesn't even speak if it's not work-related, and he takes all his breaks alone, scribbling away in his notebook, and usually blocking out the rest of the world with his headphones. Dean figures he probably hates the job - retail work is garbage, most of the time - and he's only there to do his job and get paid. He can respect that. Still, he can't help but wonder _why?_

It's not like Castiel is shy; Dean's seem him stand and chat with customers about this and that and everything, but even then it's never personal, always work, work, work. He's good at his job, and he never has any problems with anything, and while the managers all think very highly of him, there's just something about the guy that kinda drives Dean crazy. It's not that he doesn't like him, because he's kind of ambivalent, except for the fact that when he does speak, he's kind of hilarious, and Dean's stomach does a weird little flip-flop when he smiles. But ambivalent. 100%.

Which is definitely why Dean takes the long route home on Castiel's days off, the one that takes him right past the art studio. He tells himself it's because Castiel is an enigma and Dean's going to be the one to find out what his deal is, and he vehemently denies that it's because he likes catching him with flecks of paint in his hair. 

Tonight, he almost takes the quick way home because it's Christmas Eve and it's snowing, and his friends are waiting for him, but he can't quite bring himself not to walk past the studio. It's stupid, maybe, but he kind of wants to check on Castiel; he's never heard him mention any friends or family, and maybe that's just because he doesn't talk about himself, but he just needs to check. 

The lights are on in the studio, that much he can tell before he even gets there; light is pouring out the front of the building, reflecting in the snow, and Dean takes his steps a little quicker. There's a lone figure inside, and it makes his heart sinks a little. It's five pm on Christmas Eve, and the only reason Dean's not already with his friends is because he just finished work, but here's Castiel puttering away on one side if a long white table, painting or drawing or something, and he's alone. He's covered in paint and Dean's lips twitch a little at the sight, because as much as he wants to deny it, Castiel looks adorable covered in paint. He looks happy enough, though maybe content is a more accurate word, but he's all alone, and there's no good reason to be alone on Christmas. 

Dean doesn't know what exactly inspires him to do it - he doesn't even know if Castiel celebrates Christmas - but suddenly he's stepping up to the door and tapping on the glass with one gloved hand. Castiel turns to him with a confused frown, and Dean offers up a little smile and waves. His breath is puffing out in clouds, and he shifts from foot to foot in the snow, trying to distract himself from the cold. Castiel puts down his brush, and his expression sits somewhere between confusion and relief as he recognizes Dean and starts toward the door. When he gets it open, he leans on the door, looking out as if Dean is some sort of anomaly, and Castiel doesn't know what to do with him.

"Can I help you?" he asks, and _whoah_ , Dean does not remember his voice sounding that much like a phone sex operator, all gravel and molasses. 

"Uh, hi," Dean says awkwardly, still keeping up his grin.

"Hello," Castiel replies, his voice lifting at the end like he's asking a question.

"Can I come in?"

Castiel's eyes narrow, and his confusion only seems to increase, "why do you want to come in?"

"Uh, because you're all alone and I'm freezing my balls off out here?"

"Oh," Castiel steps aside to let through the door, locking it behind them, but his frown remains firmly in place. For the life of him, Dean can't figure out why Castiel is so put out by having a visitor. 

"Can I ask you something?" Castiel raises an eyebrow at him and Dean continues, "what are you doing here all alone on Christmas Eve?"

"Painting," Castiel replies as if it's the most ridiculous question he's ever been asked, though Dean suspects it might be something more - the quickness of his reply seems a little defensive. Castiel scowls and turns away from him, heading back to his work, but Dean follows him. 

"I can see that," he pushes, crossing over to where Castiel is not standing. There's a half-finished canvas sitting there; a galaxy of blues and purples and pinks that narrow into a human form. Dean runs his fingers along the edges of the colour, and looks up at Castiel, "is this what you're working on?" 

"Yes," Castiel says shortly, and this time it's definitely defensive, and when Dean turns around, Castiel is _right there_ , looming over his shoulder.

"It's beautiful," Dean breathes, barely holding back from touching the canvas, "but why are you here? Why aren't you out having fun?"

"Why do you care?" Castiel snaps, removing the canvas from Dean's line of sight. Dean straightens up, raising his hands in surrender. 

"I didn't mean to offend you, man, I just-" and really? why _does_ he care so much? He and Castiel aren't friends; they're barely acquaintances. "Nobody should be alone at Christmas."

Without skipping a beat, Castiel replies, "I'm alone the rest of the year, what difference does one day make?"

"Christmas is a time for family and friends, it's supposed to be fun," he pauses looking around at the stark white room, "this isn't..."

"It isn't what?"

"I dunno," he admits, "I just don't like seeing you alone."

"We've been over this, I'm always alone."

"And I told you, you should be out with your family, your friends." 

Castiel grits his teeth and turns away, busying himself with something Dean can't see, "I don't have a family."

Dean's heart sinks, and wants to ask, he wants to ask more than anything, but family is a touchy subject - he, of all people, should know - and it's not his place to pry. "What about your friends then, what are they doing tonight?"

"I don't have friends either."

"C'mon that can't be true-"

"Dean," Castiel interrupts, and he's more than a little surprised that Castiel knows his name, but he doesn't have a chance to say so before the man turns to face him. There's heavy emotion in Castiel's eyes, something like sadness and helplessness, and Dean has the sudden urge to bundle him up and take him away from all of this. 

"What?" he asks quietly.

"I don't' have friends, Dean. People don't like me." The words hit him harder than he could have anticipated, and he doesn't know what to say, but the urge to protect Castiel is even stronger. "Please, just go." 

"And what if I don't want to?"

"I don't need your sympathy," Castiel scowls. 

"Cas," Dean starts softly and then finds he has nothing to say. His shoulders slump and Castiel cocks his head to one side. 

"Cas?" he asks. 

"Well, uh- Castiel's a bit of a mouthful, don't you think?" Dean stumbles over his words as Cas stares at him because _holy hell_ , how has he never noticed how intense Castiel's eyes are. It's like he's staring straight into his soul. 

"I didn't realize you- I didn't-" Cas' cheeks flush and he looks down, embarrassed, "I didn't know you knew my name." 

"Dude," Dean says, disbelieving, "we've worked together for _months_ , of course I know your name."

"Oh."

There's a long silence that follows in which neither of them so much as move, until Dean works up the courage to speak, "um, Cas?" His voice is a little rough, and he clears his throat as Cas looks up nervously.

"Yes?" Cas asks.

"Would you uh, would you want to come home with me?" Cas' eyebrows shoot into his hairline before Dean can finish, and he hurries to continue, "we could pick up dinner, maybe pie and ice cream? Eggnog? Watch cheesy Christmas movies? I don't mean- just to hang out, I mean. So you're not alone?"

"Why?" Cas gapes.

"I just- if you don't want to spend the night alone, I mean. You don't have to - obviously - I just thought maybe it might be nicer than a lonely art studio." He doesn't know why this is suddenly so important to him, or why he's suddenly so anxious to know Cas' response, but Dean desperately wants him to say yes. 

"You don't even know me."

"I'd like to," he replies honestly, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging. 

"And what about you?"

Dean turns to face him, "what _about_ me?"

"Why aren't you out enjoying Christmas with your family and friends?"

Dean frowns. It's a fair question, and he really should have seen it coming, but it's not really something he wants to talk about with an almost-stranger. Or anyone, really. "I uh, I don't really have a family either. I was on my way home, and then I was going to meet some friends, but-"

"I thought you lived up on Oak?"

Dean's thoughts come crashing to a halt, because Cas knows where he lives? but words start spilling out before he can think any more about it, "I uh, I mean yeah I do, but I was in the neighborhood-"

"Dean, why are you really here? The studio's half an hour out of your way."

"Okay, yeah. That's true..."

"You came here on purpose."

"I-" Dean starts, but Cas interrupts him.

"I've seen you a couple times, walking past, ' _on your way home_.'"

"I dunno," is all Dean says, but Cas isn't buying it.

"Dean," Cas starts, "you're right, I don't necessarily want to be alone tonight, and," his mouth quirks slightly, and Dean might even classify it as a smile, if he was feeling generous, "I would rather spend my night with you, but you have to tell me why you walk past here every day."

"It's not _every_ day," Dean argues, then mumbles, almost too quietly to be heard, "it's just the days I know you're here." Heat sears through Dean's cheeks, and he kind of wants to crawl into a hole and die, but he just shrugs it off and pretends like it's nothing that he just admitted to practically stalking Cas. 

A grin spreads across Cas' face, and he ducks down behind the table to hide it, "I just have to tidy up here first."

"Yeah," Dean nods overly enthusiastically, "yeah for sure. I have to pick my car anyway. Gimme ten minutes?" He's irrationally excited, and he knows Jo's gonna be pissed at him for not showing at the Roadhouse, but he can't even be bothered to care because this is the most he's ever spoken to Cas in, well, ever. He flashes a quick smile back at him before heading back into the snow. The studio door has just fallen shut behind him when he pulls his phone out and privately calls Jo. 

"Hey, Winchester," she answers, sounding more than a little drunk already, "you almost here?"

"Yeah, uh, about that-"

"Dean, you had better not be canceling on me."

"Something came up-"

"Dean!"

"Look, I'm doing a favour for a guy at work."

"You're getting laid instead of hanging out with me? Rude."

"I'm _not_ getting laid. Honestly, this is the first time I've ever really had a chance to talk to this guy and I-"

"You like him?" Jo asks, and Dean can hear her wiggling her eyebrows. 

"Look, it's not like that," Dean insists, "I'll call you tomorrow okay? Your mom's still doing dinner right?"

"Yeah," Jo sighs, but she doesn't sound angry, "have fun with your _friend_ , Dean. I'll call you in the morning." She ends the call, and Dean pockets his phone, kicking through the snow. He always regrets leaving the car, but the alternative is trying to drive on unplowed, unsalted roads so he leaves it every day and walks the rest of the way to work. 

His feet are soaked by the time he gets to the car, and he's freezing. He turns the heat on and lets himself warm up before pulling out of the parking lot and heading back down to pick up Cas. He's waiting outside when Dean pulls up, with a bag on his shoulder, and he hurries over, climbing into the passenger seat. A swell of excitement bubbles up inside him, and Dean grins over Cas. 

"You wanna stop and pick up food? I mean, I've got food at home but like, snacks?"

"Okay?" Cas agrees with a small nod, and Dean pulls back onto the road in the direction of the grocery store. 

It takes them an hour to find one that's still open, and by that time they've got ten minutes before it closes, so they have to move quickly, but they get in and out with time to spare, and they make it to Dean's apartment before 6:30. 

"Make yourself at home," Dean grins, gesturing toward the living room. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"I'm okay. Do you need help putting anything away?"

"No, I'm good, thanks." Dean watches after him as he sits down on the couch, and he ducks into the kitchen, setting the bags on the counter. Okay, so now he's got Cas here, what's he going to do with him? He starts with putting the groceries away and preheating the oven for pizza because he doesn't have to think about that. 

He joins Cas on the couch a few minutes later with a bowl of chips. He grins awkwardly and flicks on the TV, "movies?"

"Okay."

Dean flicks through the channels, looking for something festive; it's Christmas Eve, so it's not like it should be hard, but he's having trouble focusing on anything other than Cas sitting at the other end of his couch. He settles for some family movie he's never heard of because the channel is marathoning Christmas movies all night, and that way he only has to do this once. 

Half an hour in and Dean's kinda wishing he'd just invited Cas up to the Roadhouse with everyone else because then he wouldn't be sitting here in this awkward silence that is completely 100% his own making. He tries to come up with something to say, but every time he opens his mouth, the words dissolve on his tongue. 

"You know," Cas says quietly, "when you asked me to come home with you to watch movies? I didn't think you were being quite so literal."

"What do you-" Dean turns to him, " _oh_ , you mean-" Oh god, he's a fucking idiot. "Is that what you want?"

"Oh, no- I just thought- I have no idea what I thought. Forget I said anything."

Dean changes the subject, "You hungry? I was gonna make a pizza?" 

"Okay," Cas nods. 

Dean pushes himself up off the couch, and heads for the kitchen, banging his head on the wall before pulling himself together again. Okay, so this could have gone better, but Cas hasn't left, right? That's gotta count for something. He sticks the pizza in the oven and heads back out into the living room, setting a timer on his phone. 

"Shouldn't be long," he grins.

"Look," Cas starts, "about what I said before," he shakes his head, "can we pretend that never happened?"

"Yeah," Dean nods his agreement, but his mind is already hyper-focused on every one of Cas' movements, so that's out the window. He flops down on the end of the couch, but he can't focus on the TV; the only thing running through his brain is that Cas thought Dean was expecting sex when he invited him over, and he still said yes. Fuck, what if that was the only reason he said yes?

"I messed this up didn't I?"

"what?" Dean splutters, turning to face his companion. 

"I didn't realize you were being serious about the whole Christmas thing, I thought it was just some ploy to get me back to your house." 

Dean scowls at him, "I wouldn't do that-"

"Like you wouldn't stalk me?" Cas smirks. 

"Okay, fine, you win. I'm an awful person, but you still wanted me."

"True, but that's nothing new."

"It's what?" he chokes; he seems to be doing a lot of that lately. 

Cas shrugs, "what, you thought I would just go home with a coworker I barely know for fun?"

"I dunno, maybe."

He shakes his head, "I wouldn't."

"Okay," Dean nods, so maybe this is something he can work with. "So why do you never talk to me? or anyone, for that matter."

"I don't like to get involved," Cas shrugs, "it's never worked out for me in the past, so I keep my work and my private life separate."

"I can see that," Dean grins, and he's bordering on flirting here now. 

"This is... different."

"Uh huh."

"Dean?"

"Hm?" 

"Pizza."

"Fuck, _shit_ -" Dean stumbles into the kitchen to grab the pizza and he can hear Cas laughing from the living room. _Smooth_. He sets in on the counter and cuts it into pieces, grabbing plates out of the cupboard, and nearly knocking right into Cas as he turns around.

"Do you need a hand?"

"You want to grab drinks? There's pop in the fridge or whatever." Cas pokes his head into the fridge, and Dean leaves him to it, plating up pizza and taking them back into the living room. Cas joins him a second later.

"Eggnog?" he offers, and Dean grins at him. He takes a sip and nearly chokes. 

"Jesus, Cas you want some eggnog with that rum?"

Cas just smiles and sips his own, "while you were gone I found us a better movie."

"What is it?" Dean leans back into the couch, kicking his feet up onto the table. 

"Love Actually."

"Huh. I wouldn't have taken you for a romance guy."

"And I wouldn't have taken you for someone to drag strangers home with you and make them celebrate Christmas."

"You're a smartass."

Cas just grins at him, "you invited me."

They fall into a much more comfortable silence this time, and Dean finds he's surprisingly into this movie, though he makes a point of not mentioning it to Cas. He finishes his drink, and starts in on a second, which is probably a bad idea seeing he's already tired and it's not even nine o'clock. Cas yawns across from him, slipping a little further down the couch, and Dean grins. Apparently, he's not the only one. Cas pushes himself up and heads to the kitchen, returning with the remainder of the rum. He flops back down onto the couch, noticeably closer to Dean this time, and takes a swig of rum before passing the bottle to Dean. 

He takes it without question, and Dean's surprised when it's handed back to him a second later. Alright, so this is how the night's gonna go. If he had known they'd be drinking straight rum, he would have started at the beginning of the night and avoided the awkward misunderstanding somewhere in the middle. As the movie goes on, the bottle becomes lighter and Dean slips further down in his seat. 

He tips over somewhere along the way and he's resting on his elbow, halfway into Cas' space when the credits roll. Cas leans into him, passing him the now significantly empty bottle and Dean finishes the rum off, letting the bottle roll out of his hand and under the table. He shifts his weight, pulling his arm out from underneath himself, and smiles up at Cas. He swings his legs up over the arm of the couch, lying flat on his back with Cas above him. 

"Thanks for keeping me company tonight."

"I thought you were doing this for me?" Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. 

"I am, but I also kinda like having you here."

"That's just the rum talking."

"I dunno, if I use your words, I was _stalking_ you when I was dead sober, so..."

"So?"

"Not just the rum." Dean reaches up with one hand, brushing his fingers along Cas' cheek, and Cas meets him halfway. He leans into the couch, pushing his fingers through Dean's hair. Dean curls his fingers behind Cas' ear, tugging him down untiil he can feel the warmth of his breath against his skin. Dean's sleepy, and his body's so heavy, and Cas is radiating heat above him. He lets his eyes drop shut and smiles to himself, humming at the soft scratch of Cas' nails against his head. 

He doesn't hesitate when Cas kisses him. It's tentative and warm, and It's a little bit awkward because Cas is upside down, but Dean slides his hands over Cas' jaw, smiling against his mouth as he pulls him closer. It's softer than he would have expected, but then again, he's been kind of underestimating Cas all night, so it shouldn't come as a surprise. Dean shuffles up the couch a little, resting his head on Cas' leg, and Cas pulls away, humming as he tugs Dean into his lap. Cas dips down and kisses him briefly on the lips, running a hand through Dean's hair. 

Dean's a little upset that the kissing's over, because honestly, given the chance, he would probably just lie here and let Cas kiss him all night, Christmas be damned. Still, he'll take what he can get, and this is a far cry from the awkwardness at the beginning of the night. He settles himself into Cas' lap, turning his attention back to the TV. Cas' fingers comb through his hair, and Dean lets his eyes fall shut, focusing on the feeling of Cas' hands on him. There's a movie playing in the background, but Dean doesn't recognize it, something about a kid who's dad becomes Santa - he's barely paying attention. 

The movie rolls on, and Cas slouches further and further into the couch. Dean squirms against him, constantly trying to readjust and get comfortable again. Cas lifts his shoulders and slips out from under him, standing up and stretching out his legs. 

"What're you doing?" Dean asks, and he's half-afraid to hear the answer in case Cas is leaving.

"I'm assuming that you have more alcohol in your house, and I'm going to find it, or I'm going to fall asleep on your couch."

"Fair," Dean nods, "I'mma stay here."

Cas chuckles and Dean watches him walk away, flopped over one arm of the couch. When Cas comes back, he sets the bottle he's holding on the table and hauls Dean back up into a sitting position. Dean grins at him, watching the way Cas' eyes follow his movements, and he doesn't know how he managed to get himself into this position. Cas is so beautiful with his stupid hair and his stupid eyes, and Dean doesn't think before reaching out and sliding his hands up the back of his thighs. Cas lets himself be pulled forward and dips down kissing him softly on the lips. 

It's supposed to be brief, but Dean tugs him down into his lap and Cas laughs softly against his mouth. Cas pushes his knees forward, settling in Dean's lap, and Dean decides very quickly that he likes the way Cas' body feels against his own, and he makes a point of keeping him as close as he can manage. Cas kisses him again, pressing forward with his whole body, and Dean's hands find his hips, slipping up under Cas' layers of clothing. His skin is hot under his touch, and Dean drags his fingers down Cas' back, arching forward against him.

He tugs Cas' shirt up, but Cas worms out of his arms, looking down at him. He smiles warmly, and when Dean tries again, he ducks out of his shirt, tugging it out of Dean's hands and dropping it behind him. 

"Stay here tonight?" Dean asks breathlessly, and Cas smirks at him. 

"I thought that wasn't the point of tonight?"

"It's not," he breathes, sliding his hand over Cas' jaw to pull him closer again. He presses their lips together, deepening the kiss as Cas hands slide over his shoulders. He doesn't mean to linger, but when Cas is right there, giving him everything he wants, he finds it hard to stop. He pushes his fingers into Cas' hair, sighing softly as he finds himself pressed back into the couch with Cas arching against him. 

He's pulled forward by his shirt, and Cas has it off with one smooth motion, and then Dean's being pushed down onto his back and Cas is climbing over him. He fits himself against Dean, pressing his knee between Dean's thighs and running a hand up his bare chest; Dean's skin tingles where Cas' fingers brush, and he shuts his eyes. He kisses Cas eagerly, moaning softly as Cas' thigh rubs against his cock. 

As much as he would love to get Cas into bed, he doesn't want him thinking that he lied, that the only reason he asked him to come tonight is to fuck him, but his body seems to have other ideas, and every time Cas nudges forward, he grinds against him which does exactly nothing to calm the swell of arousal that rushes through Dean's body. Dean tries to push him back, to slow things down before things go too far, and one of them does something they'll regret; Cas allows himself to be dislodged, but he presses himself against Dean's side instead. Dean shifts away as much as he can manage without falling off the couch, and Cas draws back, frowning at him.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Dean breathes, leaning forward to kiss him. Cas smiles at him, and Dean's heart twists in his chest. "I just, after what you said, I don't want you to think this is why you're here tonight."

"I'm here because I want to be," Cas slides his hand down, letting his fingers slip under the waistband of Dean's jeans, and Dean inhales shakily as Cas' fingers brush the underside of his cock. 

Dean presses into the touch, huffing a breathy _okay_ , before pulling Cas on top of him and kissing him hard. Cas sits back on his heels, unbuttoning Dean's jeans and rubbing his palm against the bulge in his underwear. Dean shuts his eyes, rocking his hips up into Cas' touch. His hands find Cas' knees and he digs his fingers into the rough fabric of his pants. 

When he opens his eyes again, Cas' lip is caught between his teeth and he has one hand between his legs, squeezing his cock through his jeans. Dean groans at the sight, pushing himself up and sliding his hand beneath Cas', kissing him hard as he drags his fingers up the length of his erection. Cas drops his head to Dean's shoulder, grunting into his skin as Dean finds the head of his cock. Cas' fingers slip between Dean's and he presses Dean's hand harder against his covered cock, rolling his hips forward slowly. Dean pulls away, delaying for only a moment to watch Cas touch himself, before finding the zipper of his jeans and pushing Cas' hands out of the way. 

Cas' cock is fat and red where it peeks out from the opening in his jeans, and when Dean cups his hand around the head, Cas all but goes limp against him. He lets Dean stroke him, dipping into Dean's pants and cupping his balls before pulling up his shaft, and he groans with every touch, but when Dean tries to push his pants down further, Cas pulls away. He climbs off the couch, dropping his pants to the floor and tugging Dean after him. 

Without his pants in the way, Cas' cock juts obscenely from his body, and Dean moves without thinking, dropping to his knees and sucking the head of Cas' cock between his lips. He flicks his tongue under the head and Cas' hands press down on his shoulders, steadying himself. 

"Fuck," he breathes. His hips press forward and Dean takes him down as far as he can, humming around his length as Cas mumbles indistinctly above him. When he draws back, Cas' hips chase the heat of his mouth, and Dean holds still, letting Cas fuck his mouth. Cas' fingers wind into his hair, and Dean reaches down, pulling his own cock from his pants and stroking himself slowly. 

Cas' cock bumps against the back of his throat, and heat rushes through his body, encouraging the flick of his tongue and the jerk of his hips. He pulls off of Cas with a final curl of his tongue, and sit back on his heels. Cas' fingers curl under his chin, tipping his chin up and Dean staggers to his feet as Cas kisses him, pushing him backwards before Dean's even upright. 

They stumble back into the bedroom, and Dean's pants are off before he even hits the bed. He doesn't know where they ended up, but when Cas crawls over him, aligning their erections he realizes he doesn't actually care that much. His hip bump up against Cas' seeking something solid, and he groans when his cock rubs against Cas'. He thrusts his hips up again, groaning when Cas meets him in the middle. They move against each other easily, filling the empty air with soft moans and gasps. 

Cas rolls onto his back, pushing Dean up and sliding his hands down to settle on his hips. He jerks his hips and Dean has to press a hand to his chest to keep from unseating himself.

"How do you want to do this?" Cas asks, and it takes Dean's brain a second to catch up. In his defense, he's a little preoccupied. 

"I don't care, I just wanna be with you." 

Cas beams at him, and in one swift motion manages to pull Dean back down to him and roll him onto his side. Cas kisses him urgently, all of his earlier finesse gone to shit as he curls his hand around Dean's cock and jerks him quickly. He moves down the bed slowly, kissing his way down Dean's body until he can kneel on the floor. Dean's skin tingles with the memory of his lips, and he reaches for Cas, brushing his fingers through his hair. 

His hips jump involuntarily as Cas' tongue swipes up the length of his cock, and Dean doesn't realize he's holding his breath until Cas tugs him down the bed. His knees rest on Cas' shoulders, curling around his neck as Cas' mouth slips over the head of his cock. He drops his head back, arching off the mattress with a groan, and Cas holds his hips down, giving himself full control over Dean's cock. He sucks and licks up the shaft, and Dean's hips twitch under him, eager for anything Cas will give him. 

Cas' fingers pull down on his bottom lip and Dean opens for him, sucking Cas' fingers into his mouth. He licks around Cas' fingers sucking on each of them individually and nipping at the pads. Cas groans as he withdraws his hands reaching back behind Dean's balls to press against his hole. Dean tenses up immediately, then relaxes he adjusts to the touch. 

Cas is obviously eager rubbing his hole and pushing into him as far as he can.

Dean reaches up above his head, pulling open the side table drawer and retrieving his bottle of lube; he tosses it back to Cas, pleased with the sound he gets in response. He pushes down onto Cas, but Cas pulls away from him and sits back, flipping Dean onto his stomach.

"Pull up your knees," he hums, and Dean is quick to comply, wiggling his hips at Cas. He gets a light smack for that, but then Cas spreads his cheeks and presses between them. 

Dean inhales sharply at the first press of his tongue, and his knees spread a little wider under him. Cas is a fucking expert with his tongue - who the fuck knew? - and Dean's panting and squirming under him in no time. Cas chuckles against his skin, thrusting his tongue deeper, as far as he can until Dean's mumbling nonsensically into the blankets. 

Cas draws back, kissing up the line of Dean's spine, and replacing his tongue with his fingers, pressing in and searching for that spot that he knows will drive him crazy. He finds it with ease, and he's not shy about fucking Dean with his fingers, alternating between rubbing over his prostate and thrusting into him hard and fast. 

"Fuck, Cas," Dean breathes, reaching down to curl his fingers around the length of his cock. He runs his fingers over the head, spreading pre-come down his shaft to ease his strokes. 

"Are you good?"

"Yeah baby, I'm so good."

Cas chuckles, rising to his feet and Dean shifts so he's in the center of the bed, still on his knees. Cas comes up behind him, running his hands up Dean's back and kissing just below his tailbone. When he leans back, Dean goes with him but Cas holds him still, pressing his cock between Dean's cheeks. He rocks his hips, his cock sliding over Dean's hole and Dean presses back against it, rocking his hips to keep Cas moving. 

It works for a few minutes, but Cas gets impatient and pulls back. There's a brief pause, and Dean rises up on his knees, turning to face Cas. He gets a questioning look in return, but he ignores it, taking in Cas' naked body briefly before surging forward and kissing him hard. Cas kisses him back, moving forward until he's pressed against Dean's stomach, his cock trapped between them and pressed right up against Dean's. Every time one of them moves, even an inch, their cocks rub against each other, and Dean's hips jump forward every single time. 

"God, you're so fucking sexy," Dean groans, "baby I want you to fuck me." Cas reaches down, squeezing Dean's ass and grinding against him. He bites Dean's lip a low rumble in his throat, but he makes no attempt to move, so Dean takes matters into his own hands. He shuffles backward, out of Cas' arms, and pushes Cas down against the mattress. Cas looks up at him, partially confused, but mostly just incredibly aroused. 

"Well," he says, "you've got me here, what are you gonna do with me?"

Dean's not one to turn down a challenge, but he takes a second to make Cas wait, just because. When he crawls over him, Cas' hands find his hips immediately, but he lets Dean stay in control, which is good because nothing and no one is gonna stop him now. He reaches back, grasping Cas' cock and twisting his fingers around it. 

Cas' eyes drop shut, and he groans, pushing into Dean's touch but Dean just pulls away, reaching for the lube. He slicks his hand up and rubs Cas' cock, sliding right down to the base and up over the head, and Cas' whole body lifts off the bed. Dean bites his lip, grinning down at him, and shifts back, aligning Dean's cock against his hole before sliding down onto him. It's so fucking good, and Dean's tempted to just drop onto him, but the look on Cas' face is too good to pass up. He looks like he's about to implode, biting down on his bottom lip so hard that Dean thinks he's going to bruise it, and keeping his eyes locked on Dean's. 

_God_ , he should have done this a long time ago.

When he's fully seated, he shifts his hips forward immediately, rocking back onto Cas' cock with a shuddering breath. Cas leans up to him, but Dean plants his hand on his chest, pressing him back into the bed and pulling up on his cock. 

He fucks himself on Cas' cock, and _goddamn_ it's so fucking good. Cas' cock is thick and the stretch is more than he was anticipating, but it's better than anything he could have hoped for. He wants to spend the rest of his life fucking Cas, just the two of them alone where no one can interrupt them; he's thought about it before, but now that he's here, the thought is cemented in his mind. 

Cas' hands slip down to his ass, spreading his cheeks apart and thrusting up into him. Dean's brain shuts off, and he tips forward, dropping onto his elbows and burying his face in Cas' neck. He gasps against his skin as Cas fucks him fast and hard, dragging his teeth down his neck and biting down on his shoulder. 

"Jesus fuck, Cas- _christ_ -"

Cas tips his head, and Dean meets him halfway, sealing their lips together. His tongue slides between his lips, and Dean groans into him kissing him back urgently. He pushes his hips down, moaning into Cas' mouth as his cock slides against his stomach. 

Dean's hips jerk forward more quickly, seeking friction; the swell of arousal is like fire inside him, and he's desperate for more. He pushes himself up, biting Cas' lip as he goes, and leans back on his palms lifting his hips and dropping back onto Cas' cock. He rides him hard, and Cas' fingers dig into his thighs, driving him forward. 

" _Dean_ ," Cas grunts, "fuck, Dean I'm gonna come, " Cas bites his lip, arching his back and jesus, he is so fucking gorgeous like this. Dean runs his hands up Cas' chest, dragging his nails over his skin, and when Cas moans he doesn't think he's going to make it. 

"Yeah baby," he rasps, "you feel so fuckin' good, God Cas-" Cas is nearly silent beneath him, just soft gasps and moans that drop from his lips and drive Dean crazy. He wraps a hand around his cock and Cas' fingers slip between his, following Dean's motions. 

Dean snaps his hips forward and Cas' moans loudly, hips bucking up to meet him, and his nails dig into Dean's thigh as he grinds up into him. He pushes up as he comes, and Dean strokes himself faster, thrusting into the hollow of their joined hands. 

"Oh fuck," Cas groans, gritting his teeth as he comes. Dean rocks himself forward, and when Cas pushes his hand away, he doubles over, leaning down to kiss him as Cas pulls on his cock. He shuts his eyes and presses his forehead to Cas', panting against his skin. 

Cas rolls them over, pulling out and pushing his fingers into him. Dean groans immediately, his hips bucking up harshly as Cas finds his prostate. He kisses him furiously, biting his lip and sucking it into his mouth. Dean's so overwhelmed that when Cas' mouth slides over the head of his cock, he just folds in on himself, gasping at the sensation. His hands slide into Cas' hair, grasping tightly as he rocks himself between Cas' lips. 

"Fuck, baby," he groans, "I'm so fuckin' close Cas, _jesus_ -" he starts rambling, his hips bucking up of their own volition. " _Oh shit_ \- Cas, fuck- _ah_!" he bites his lip, and he doesn't even have a chance to warn Cas before he's coming hard down his throat. Cas swallows him down as deep as he can, and Dean's whole body convulses as Cas' lips slide up his length. 

" _Ah, Cas_ -" Dean cries, curling his fingers under Cas' jaw to pull his head up and off of him. Cas chuckles as Dean tugs him up, drawing him into a kiss. 

All of the heat is still there, the electricity that he's been feeling all night, but this time it's so much softer. Cas slides up next to him, leaning into him as his mouth moves expertly against his own. Dean lets himself sink into the mattress, pushing his fingers through Cas' hair, and smiling up at him. 

"You're beautiful," he breathes. Cas just smiles at him, and snuggles up to his side. 

"I'm tired," Cas huffs softly. 

"Me too," Dean agrees, "are you gonna stay?"

"Can I?"

"Yeah, 'course. Why would I kick you out now?"

"Good."

"Just let me turn the TV off and I'll be right back." Dean rolls off the edge of the bed and heads into the living room. He unplugs the Christmas lights and switches off the TV before heading into the kitchen for a couple glasses of water. 

When he gets back to bed, Cas has tidied up the blankets and pulled them down for him. The lights are out, and the lamps on the nightstand are both turned on. Dean slips into bed, leaning over to set Cas' glass on the opposite table. 

Cas appears out of the bathroom, and crosses to the bed, climbing up next to Dean, "we should do this again," he says, and Dean can't help but agree, "as long as you're not going to make me wait until next Christmas."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

Cas chuckles and turns off his lamp, curling into the middle of the bed, "so how often do you pick up strange men off the street? Just on bank holidays?"

"I'm a little more selective than just _strange men on the street_ ," Dean retorts, turning his lamp off. He rolls onto his side and Cas is just barely visible from the street light shining in through the window. 

"How selective?"

"Pretty much exclusively you."

Cas hums, "good."

"Good?" Dean asks. 

"Mmhm," Cas throws an arm over Dean's shoulder, pulling himself closer to him, "I don't really like sharing." He kisses him briefly, tucking his head down, and Dean shuts his eyes, a grin spreading across his face. 

Cas is silent for so long that Dean thinks he's fallen asleep, and it almost startles him when he speaks up again. 

"Merry Christmas, Dean."

Dean chuckles softly, curling his arm over Cas' hip, "merry Christmas, Cas."


End file.
